


Oh we had a merry old time, but merry old times don’t count for nothing

by Minya_Mari



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: AU: Arya Is The Older Sister, AU: Both Stark Sisters Escape King's Landing, AU: Robb Wins The War of the Five Kings, Multi, SANSA IS SMOL AND MUST BE PROTECTED
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-18 08:41:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7308043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minya_Mari/pseuds/Minya_Mari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The black brother's rotted teeth scared her sister, and Arya didn't much fancy his rough personality either. "Put these on, boy."<br/>Arya frowned. "I'm not a-"<br/>Yoren sneered at her, tossing another pair of britches at her. "These are for your brother, too."<br/>Oh, thought Arya. Oh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh we had a merry old time, but merry old times don’t count for nothing

**Author's Note:**

> Arya's point of view here.  
> Whoo boy it's been a while since I've done anything ASoIAF related.  
> Murder my soul.

She was proud, not stupid.

Though Joffrey thought her so. Why else would a Lady not wish to be wed to a Crown Prince?

 _You are daft_ , Arya told herself as she snuck out of her chambers, slippered feet quiet on the old stones. _Daft and stupid_ , she chanted, picking up her skirts in fistfulls and nearly sprinting down the stairs now.

"She's gone! Search for her now, Your Queen demands it!" Cersei's petulant tone echoed through the castle corridors.

Arya's heart leapt into her throat, blood rushing in her ears. Syrio would save her, if Father could not.

"A boy should be more careful," Syrio's accented tone came to her as Arya stepped into the hall.

Arya opened her mouth to tell him that now was not a time for games, but he raised a finger to his lips, eyes hard.

"I know," said he, and quickly reefed her behind him. "A boy should run."

Arya's hand fell to the handle of her Needle as the two soldiers stomped in, having no intention of following her master's orders. "No!" She shouted, biting her lip hard. "I wo-"

Syrio Forel pushed her roughly towards the door behind them, and the two King's Guard sneered.

"Hand her over, Braavosi. The Queen wants to talk to her."

Syrio grinned back, falling into the Water Dancer's stance. "So I have heard. But, you see, she has other places to be."

Arya's hand still hesitated on the handle, and Syrio spoke.

"What do we say to the Lord of Death?"

Arya nodded, stepped back quickly. "Not today."

Arya Stark ran.

 

.

.

 

Arya had only just turned three and ten, and for the most part, could pass herself off as a boy when not donning a gown.

Today was no different.

 _What of Sansa, though?_ Arya thought anxiously to herself, looking down at her little sister.

Sansa clung to her arm, tears staining her cheeks. _She would never wear anything but a dress, it is what her septa taught her after all._

Septa Mordane was gone, probably dead from what little words Arya had managed to get out of her sister. _Just like_...

 _Sansa is only little_ , she thought, jumping from the topic. _This shouldn't be happening to her_.

Yoren of the Night's Watch had found them, covered in grime and cuts. Arya had led Sansa through the maze that was the tunnels with the dragon skulls, and they had ended up somewhere in King's Landing proper.

The black brother's rotted teeth scared her sister, and Arya didn't much fancy his rough personality either. "Put these on, boy."

Arya frowned. "I'm not a-"

Yoren sneered at her, tossing another pair of britches at her. "These are for your brother, too."

 _Oh_ , thought Arya. _Oh_.

There would be very few ways for them to leave the city, and that Yoren was doing this for them at all proved his good nature, had he not already told her of the promise he'd made her father.

This didn't change the fact that her little sister hated him for cutting their hair off. It was roughly done, uneven and ratty now.

Sansa's long curls were her pride, because they were "just like mother's".

Yoren shook his head, glanced out from the cove all three were huddled in. He grabbed Sansa, and Arya leant to stop him, but hesitated.

"Quit your cryin' now, ya hear, boy?" He told her, shaking her slightly. "Don't want the Queen's men to hear ya and come runnin'."

Sansa choked down a sob and glared at him instead.

That settled, Yoren nodded and gestured behind him to where some knights were milling about, prisoners and boys and men being shoved into line.

"I'll be waiting over there," said he. "You come straight to me once you're done, ya hear?"

Arya nodded, long face solemn.

"Good."

With that he left, and Arya quickly began shucking herself out of her gown. It was blue and grey; one that _best suited her complexion_. Mother had made this for her.

Shaking her head to rid herself of the thought, Arya quickly dressed herself once more, and tucked Needle under the too-big tunic. It didn't appear dirty, but it smelt of horse and itched.

Sansa shook her head, bowed mouth pulling down into a determined frown. "I'll not be wearing those." She pointed to the bundle of clothes in Arya's arms. "They're dirty. A Lady shouldn't-"

Arya dropped the clothes and gripped her sister's shoulders hard. "I don't care what a Lady should or should not do, little sister," she snapped, tears springing to her eyes. "They killed _Father_ , and they'll kill us too if we don't leave _right now_."

Sansa looked about ready to cry again, and Arya wanted to join her. "Please, sweetling," Arya crooned. "Just do this. Yoren is going to take us home to Winterfell, to Mother and Robb and Bran and Rickon."

Nodding, Sansa reached down for the clothes.

 

.

.

 

 

They'd gotten no more than three feet into the small crowd of recruits before two boys pushed little Sansa to the ground.

Arya bounded to her defence, drawing Needle and growling at them. "Don't touch him," she told them, the thin blade pointed at the fat one's belly.

The skinny one laughed, green-stained hands gesturing to Sansa. "Whatchu hanging around with a girly one like that for?" He demanded.

"I bet you don't even know how to use that," The other one jeered.

Arya stepped forward, and the fat one stepped back. "I do know how to use it," she threatened. "I'll show you."

They laughed and Arya scowled, opened her mouth to reply something scathing, only to be interrupted by a deeper tone.

"You like picking on the little ones?"

The boy was big; much bigger than she and Sansa or the two harassing them. Big with black hair and bright blue eyes that were glaring at the boys before him.

"I was a blacksmith's apprentice," said he, but the fat one did not cow.

"So, what's that got to do with anything?" He snapped.

"So," the black-haired one replied. "It means that when I hit metal it sings." He stepped forward and the skinny one grabbed his friend, pulling him away from the now lost confrontation.

"Are you gonna sing when I hit you?"

The two scampered off quickly, and Arya turned to check on her sister.

"Where'd you get a blade like that anyways?" The black-haired boy was still there, watching them. Arya scowled, determined to be rid of him.

"My other brother gave it to me," she replied, pulling Sansa up and dusting her off.

The boy snorted and Sansa grimaced at him. "Stole it more like."

Arya pulled Sansa along to the front where Yoren stood on the back of a cart. The old man nodded at her and shouted for the rest to start walking.

"Are you two brothers?"

He kept pace with them, despite his longer legs. Arya glanced at him, mouth a thin line.

"Yes."

The boy nodded, and held out a massive hand to Arya. "My name's Gendry."

Arya frowned at the proffered limb, but responded in kind. "You can call me Arry, my brother's name is San."

He smiled at her. He had a nice smile. "Nice to meet you, Arry, and you," he glanced around Arya to look at little Sansa, who ducked into Arya's side. "San."

Arya smiled back. She may have actually made a friend. "Likewise, Gendry."

 


End file.
